9 Months
by Ninasaurrr
Summary: It has been five years since the events of Stark Tower, and finally everyone seems to have settled down into normal lifestyles – including Natasha and Clint, who are finally having a baby together. However, unknown to Clint, Natasha's feelings about the pregnancy are drastically different to his own. These are a collection of letters Natasha wrote to her unborn child over a year.
1. Month One

_Dear Unknown,_

_That's what you are, right? Unknown. And not just in your gender or your body, but to the whole world. Apart from me, that is. I know I should have told Clint as soon as I found out, but I just couldn't. It took me years to finally agree to marry him, with the exception that we would never have children. I mean, how could we? There is something you should know right off the bat about your father and I. We're assassins, and two of the deadliest and most sought-after in the world. How could we raise a family whilst we were tracking down our enemies? You can't just order a babysitter and rush out of the door with the excuse that you're about to go and kill some of the world's most wanted criminals, can you?_

_Your father disagreed at first. He argued with me, trying to dissuade me from my decision. He said that there was a timer on how long we could stay in this profession. There are always new assassins around; the world is not short of them. Why should something that we do for ten, fifteen years determine whether we can have a family or not?_

_But he doesn't get it. Oh Unknown, my job isn't just my job, but it is a way of life. It is _my_ way of life. It is all I have ever known. I'm not especially proud of my past, but it is what it is. I'm twenty-seven years old, and for the first ten years of my life, I was trained to be a Soviet spy in the heart of Russia's underground criminal industry. There's no point in denying that I wasn't trained to be evil. And although I was constantly surrounded by people, I never experienced the whole 'family aspect' of childhood. I guess Clint didn't either, but he was still raised beside his brother. They were so close, and I know he just wants to recreate the closeness of a family environment, for the both of us. But I just can't do that. I can't just drop everything I've ever known, and adopt something that is completely foreign to me._

_Between you and me…this isn't the first time I have been pregnant. There were two other times before this, once with Clint, once with…someone nearly as unknown as you. The second time, when I was with Clint, I got an abortion. I couldn't handle it any better than I can now, and if I'm being honest, I don't know whether I'll have you aborted too._

_The first time was with a guy I only knew as Dmitri. He was one of the Soviet's, as well as my trainer. He taught me hand-to-hand combat, so we were always very close and intimate with one another. And one day he just…took it a step further, I guess. I never said no, but I still feel as if I was forced into it. He was young and gorgeous, and I was fifteen and naïve – just an infatuated girl wanting to impress an older, more mature man. At first, I didn't regret it. But then I tested positive. At first I was ecstatic – I'd never been around young children, but I'd spent many years dreaming about the day when I would become a mother. And to bear the children of Dmitri? It felt like all my Christmas' had come at once, so to speak._

_However, when I told him, he wasn't as pleased as I had thought he'd be. We shouted, we fought, and I was left with bruises all across my ribcage and upper arms. I was distraught and heartbroken, but I still believed that once I had had the baby – our baby – he would come around. Mothers bonded to their baby as soon as they found out, but fathers properly became attached when they saw the child, right_

_Unfortunately, I never found out. I lost the baby five months into the pregnancy. I thought I was in the clear zone, but obviously not. What made it even worse was that I'd already chosen a name for him. Your brother would have been called Filip Luka Romanova. After I lost him, I just couldn't face going through it again. How could I raise another child, when my first one was nothing but a corpse in my womb, and some blood on my sheets?_

_Natasha_


	2. Month Two

**A/N: I just wanted to say, I am so pleased with the result the first chapter got. Your follows, favourites and reviews are really encouraging. The next few lyrics I am putting up were inspired by a review from Brandi Golightly.**

* * *

_I can still feel you hold my hand,_

_Little man,_

_And even in the moment I knew,_

_You fought it hard like an army guard,_

_Remember I leaned in and whispered to you,_

_Come on baby with me,_

_We're gonna fly away from here._

* * *

_Dear Unknown,_

_It's seven weeks into the pregnancy, and I still haven't told Clint. Hell, I still haven't told anyone! I know I'm running out of time, and I know I will start showing signs soon. But how do you tell someone that you're carrying an unwanted child? I can't exactly ring up my non-existent mother and sob to her on the phone and relinquish all of my sins. For one thing, that would take forever, and for another thing, I wouldn't want to do that, even if I had the choice._

_And what am I even saying? You are wanted, Unknown. Just…not by me. No matter which way I say it, it will always sound bad. But I can't pretend to be thrilled about either the prospect of having you, or the prospect of aborting you. I've done it once, why the fuck do I have to go through it again?_

_When I got my second baby aborted – the one belonging to Clint – I very nearly backed out. This was five years ago, when we first met during the fight at Budapest. They'd backed us into a corner, and the odds were almost completely against us. To this day, I still don't know how we managed to survive. Once we'd escaped to a run-down hostel miles away, one thing just led to another, and... Despite my mixed up memories of Budapest, I still remember those few moments in bed with your father perfectly. He was so gentle, and it was in such stark contrast to the fight we'd been in mere hours before, that I couldn't help but burst into sobs. Your father set me straight, Unknown, and I knew I loved him from the moment he spoke to me. But as I've said before, we're assassins – we aren't allowed to experience the domestic pleasures of normal lifestyles. Relationships just mean that you're responsible for another person's safety. So when I found out I was carrying his baby, abortion was the only option that entered my head._

_Even though I never changed my mind, I was hesitant at first, and I did try to put it off for as long as possible. For five weeks I waited, keeping myself busy with my set missions, and pretending that the growing embryo inside of me didn't exist. But even in Soviet training we did have occasional sex education lessons, and I knew the signs to look out for. They were the same signs I am currently developing – tender breasts, headaches, frequent urination. I could even feel a slight bump forming. I had to stop it._

_I went to a small town way out in Germany to get the abortion. I still remember exactly what the clinic looked like as I approached it. It loomed over me, all white-washed and severe. It was basically your clichéd abortion clinic, and although my nerves probably over-exaggerated some of its features, as I walked up those cold marble steps, it literally felt like I was walking through the gates of some icy hell. And believe me; I have been in some pretty bad situations before, so I'm not just throwing that phrase around._

_Once the metal doors shut behind me, the smell of bleach just overtook my senses; bleached walls, bleached floors, bleached equipment, bleached toilets – it was all too much, and I instantly felt queasy. The woman at the desk was wearing a starch white uniform, and looked upon me with disdain._

"_Sie müssen hier unterschreiben." You must sign here. She pushed a form towards me, along with a battered ball-point pen. She wanted my name, date of birth, address, phone number, email – all these details that didn't exist. I began to panic – I wouldn't be able to make up enough lies that would seem passable. But I had to try. Rule #1 of being a spy: Never give away your true identity._

_I was Laura Matthers, twenty-five, born on 07/03/1982, currently living with some friends in Berlin. I did not have a phone number, or an email address. The woman gave me a suspicious glare, but said nothing more._

"_Danke." I was pointed in the direction of another white room, this time occupied by a few people. Near the door sat a young couple, the woman sobbing into the man's shoulder; across from the entrance sat another woman, who had her eyes closed and her hands folded together in prayer; two women, a mother and her daughter, sat a few chairs apart, with the youngster crying and the mother scolding. Keeping my head down, I settled myself into the very darkest corner of the room, hoping to become invisible._

_I had to wait for the better part of an hour, and I have to say that time was the worst experience of my life. Killing criminals is one thing, but hearing vulnerable, innocent people screaming down the halls "Let me keep my baby"…it turns out that not even master assassins can handle that._

_I was going to go. I was going to get up, walk out, and slam the front doors shut behind me, forgetting all about this excursion. Yes, it'd be difficult to have a child, but what if getting it aborted turned out to be a mistake? I'd already lost Filip; I wouldn't be able to survive that feeling of loss again._

_I stood up and began to walk towards the door. I was going to go; I'd made my final decision. But then the doctor walked in. He was blocking my path. He asked me if I was ready to go. I wasn't, but since I'd grown up around rough men and fierce women, I had always resolved to never crumble until such a penetrating gaze. I didn't want to be weak._

"_Ja." A simple yes was all it took._

_And that's how I lost my second baby._

_Natasha_


	3. Month Three

_And I don't want the world to see me_

'_Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

* * *

_You,_

_I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it, Unknown. I thought I'd be able to; I thought I'd be stronger this time. But I just took one look at the clinic and bailed. Fuck, it wasn't even the same one – and I'd gone to plenty of check-ups at a variety of surgeries over the years, so why couldn't I just walk in and get you aborted? That sounds harsh, but you understand, don't you? I've explained it before. I can't keep you._

_From the clinic, I just started running. I wasn't thinking, and turned down road after side street after road. I created a maze for myself, losing my path until I didn't know which way was right. It was only when I paused for breath that I realized where I was. Typically, I was right under the shadow of Stark Tower._

_I knew at the time that Tony wasn't in, with the reason being that he and Clint had gone out golfing for the day. Yeah, of all things, golfing is probably the least heroic sport of all._

_However, I knew Pepper was in. Ever since the incident with Loki, the gang – or the Avengers, as Nick seemed to love calling us – had become pretty close-knit, including our spouses, so we usually knew where each other were. And although I adore the boys, there are just some things that you need to talk through with girls. This was one of those times._

_Glancing over my shoulder out of habit, I crept over to the side of the building and glanced up. On the second story, a window was open. Taking a few steps backwards, I ran up to the glass, jumped, and latched my fingers onto the piece of metal that surrounded the adjoining windows. Bracing my core, I pulled myself up towards the second window, then the third. The fourth was the one that was open. Prising it wider, I slid myself under the glass and tumbled inside, landing with a quiet thud on the plush carpet. I was in one of the many conference rooms that seemed to take up most of Stark Tower. Standing up, I quickly brushed myself off before marching out of the closed door and into the corridor. Luckily for me, this one lead to the elevator, which I ran into and punched the number '15'. On the way up, I pondered as to whether Tony had ever taken all fifteen flights of stairs up. I doubted it – the lazy git would have found it easier to just shove his suit on and fly up._

_The elevator doors popped open with a bing, and I was faced with the sleek and flawless hallway that lead to their private rooms. Approaching the metal door, I pressed down on the buzzer. Seconds later, Pepper's face appeared in the tiny television screen attached to the speaker._

"_Mr Stark is not in at the moment, so plea- Oh! Hey Natasha, what a nice surprise! Wait a second, I'll just let you in." There was a crackle of static, before a sharp buzz rang out, and the metal door popped open. Shutting it behind me, I approached the double glass doors, where Pepper was stood, a big grin on her face. She was happy to see me, and…it was just too much. I needed to escape, but how could I, without jumping out of a window?_

_So I did the next best thing; something I haven't done in a while. I burst into tears. I have to say, in other circumstances, I would have found the bewilderment on Pepper's face amusing. She is probably the most collected and organised person I know, and instantly knows how to fix most problems._

_Hesitantly placing her hands on my upper arms, she pulled me into a warm embrace, making hushing noises as my body convulsed against her. Slowly, she led me over to one of the many spotless leather sofas and placed me down, her leather dipping as she sat down next to me._

"_Hey now, Nat…what's going on? I've never seen you like this before." She placed her hand under my chin, and gently lifted my head up to look at her. Thinking back, I probably looked like a mess, but as I looked up at her, she didn't even flinch. I suppose Tony had come back looking worse._

"_I…something terrible has happened, and I can't…I don't know what to do…oh Pepper…I just…"_

"_Hush, hush…okay, breathe – what's happened? Is it…Loki or is Clint-"_

"_I'm pregnant." There was a short pause._

"_Oh my – congratulations!" Pepper wrapped both arms around me in a tight squeeze. "When? How many months – when's it due? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl, or…wait, what do you mean 'terrible'?"_

"_I don't want to be pregnant! I didn't mean to, I just – I forgot to take the pill one day, and Clint and I-"_

"_How many weeks?"_

"_Eight. If I don't get an abortion today, I won't be able to with just medicine."_

"_Have you told Clint yet? What does he think?"_

"_I…I haven't exactly told him-"_

"_What? Why not? Natasha-"_

"_I was waiting for the right moment!" Pepper fixed me with a look. She knew I was bullshitting just much as I did._

"_What was I supposed to say to him?"_

"_You could have just told him you were having his baby. You know he loves children – you've seen him with Henri."_

"_But that's different."_

"_Of course it is – Henri is Thor's son, not his. Come on, you know he would be ecstatic. He's always wanted a child."_

"_He might, but I don't. I'd be a crap mother, Pepper. And besides, our jobs don't exactly allow us room to have a family, as well."_

"_No one asked you to be an assassin forever."_

"_It's all I know. Without it, I'm nothing. I mean, would you give up being a secretary? Don't deny it, you love your job-"_

"_If it was between my job and having a family, I would choose the latter."_

"_Well of course you'd say that if you weren't in the situation, but-"_

"_Actually…" And that's when I noticed for the first time the small bump protruding from Pepper's stomach. At first, I was totally speechless. And then came the guilt. I'd been so wrapped up in my own problems and with you that I just didn't think. I gave Pepper an apologetic smile._

"_Congratulations. Sorry. But I am happy for you." I tried to make the smile reach my eyes, so that my facial expression would coincide to my feelings. I genuinely was happy. Pepper would be a great mother, and Tony would be a crazy but fantastic father too. So would Clint. It was just me._

"_I guess we'll be having children at the same time, huh?"_

"_Yeah. But we'll go through it together, right?"_

"_Right."_

_It felt weird, that conversation. Almost as if I was admitting, finally, that I was going to have a baby – and I suppose I was, to an extent. I'm having you, Unknown – and in sixth months' time, you won't be a mystery anymore. You'll be here. In my arms. And I don't know how I feel about that yet. I don't know if I ever will._

_Now to tell Clint._

_Me_


	4. Month Four

**A/N: I just wanted to say a massive thank you to every single one of you for supporting this story. All the favourites, follows and reviews really mean a lot to me, so please don't stop! I also want to apologise for not updating for a few weeks: my laptop decided it would hate me. But I've got it back now, so look out for more regular updates.**

* * *

_I would sail across the east sea_

_Just to see you on the far side_

_Where the wind is cold and angry_

_There you'll be to take me inside_

* * *

_Dear Bump,_

_I know in my last letter to you, I said I'd be telling your father about the pregnancy. And don't get me wrong, I did, and he does now know. The catch? I only told him yesterday, and I didn't bring it up – he did. Let me explain._

_On the journey back from Stark Tower, I had gradually formed a plan in my head: go home, find Clint, tell him I was pregnant, and celebrate. Naturally, what I plan out in my mind never goes to plan – Rule #2 of being an assassin: never plan too far ahead, because something _will_ go wrong, and it _will_ fuck up your entire plan._

_Clint had beaten me home, and as I closed the front door behind me, he skidded in from the living room and swept me up into his arms, kissing my brow. He smelled of sun and sweat, and in that moment I let myself daydream about our possible future together; just the three of us, living together as a proper family. For those few seconds, it seemed as if it was just within my grasp._

_And then he dropped the bombshell._

"_Guess what Tony told me?" Clint gushed, an impish grin lighting up his features. It's one of the many things that first attracted me to him; mostly when you look at him, he has an incredibly serious expression on his face, as if he's constantly in deep concentration. And then he'll catch you watching, and an the most adorable grin will spread across his lips._

"_What?" I asked curiously, as I moved past him and into the kitchen, and began sorting through our practically empty fridge to whip something together. A reminder to myself – when you're born, make sure we actually have food to feed you with._

"_Pepper's pregnant – I didn't even realize Tony had it in him!" His crooked grin was still plastered across his face as he leant against the counter beside me. I could feel his eyes roaming across my face, drinking in my change of expression. I tried to keep up my poker face._

"_Wow. That's amazing. I guess Henri will finally have someone to play with." Glancing up at him, Clint quickly constructed his own poker face – but not before I caught the fleeting look of hurt cross his face. Seeing me watching him, he let out a small sigh, and tried to mimic his previously easy smile. It was a good effort, but it didn't manage to reach his eyes._

"_Natalia –" he murmured, sliding an arm around my waist. "Nat, I've told you – I'm okay with this. Children would be nice, but…I've got you, and that's all I will ever need." With his words, Clint's smile had grown my genuine, but I still knew that secretly, having children was one of the few things that he wanted more than anything in the world._

_See here, a normal person would have said, Well actually, I am pregnant. In this scenario, Clint would have been so overwhelmed with happiness that he wouldn't have thought for a second about how long I'd been keeping stuff from him. But, being me, I lost all my earlier guts. It's silly, but I felt like if I told him about you, he'd backtrack and realise that if I hadn't ever given him a child, he would have just left me. After Dmitri, I really didn't think I would ever find another guy who could love me. And then I did._

_So I didn't tell him. I smiled, and we settled down in front of the television with our cheese on toast (hey – I'm an assassin, not a chef!) However, at the time, I didn't take into consideration the fact that eventually, my seemingly small bump would become more prominent. It was what eventually gave me away._

_I was on my way home from your Auntie Pepper's. Recently, I've been getting more into this whole baby thing – I think it's her nervous energy rubbing off on me. Being a few weeks ahead, she already knows her baby's gender. It's a girl. We were looking over names, and I think I've got some ideas for you. If you do turn out to be a girl, that is. I'm sure if you're a boy, you won't really appreciate being called Alekzandra?_

_When I got back to the flat, Clint was waiting for me in the living room. At first when I saw the expression on his face, I thought he was just zoned out, thinking about something or other. But then his eyes drifted to lock onto me. Thunder was blazing in his irises._

"_Hey. Sorry I didn't call, I was with Pepper, picking out baby names-"_

"_When were you going to tell me?" He murmured it so quietly, I thought I had just imagined things._

"_What?"_

"_I said, when were you going to tell me?" Louder this time, clenching and unclenching his fists. It put me on edge. Not because I wouldn't be able to fend off a fight if there was one, but because he'd never been like this before. I knew he could get angry, but it had never been directed at me – well, unless I was angry at him first._

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

"_Oh no?" He jumped up from the seat, the floorboards protesting loudly beneath him. "How long did you think it would take for me to find out? I might not have gone to high school, but I'm not dumb, Natasha!" I flinched as he used my alias._

"_I never said you were dumb-"_

"_Then why didn't you tell me? Didn't you think it was important – did you think it wasn't my business?"_

"_Tell you what –"_

"_That you're fucking pregnant!" The silence that followed was ear-splitting. He was standing right in front of me now, his whole body rippling with anger. For once in my life, I was speechless._

"_Who told you? Did Pepper-"_

"_Right, so Pepper knew? For shit's sake, who else knew before me? Does everyone know aside from me – aside from your fucking partner?"_

"_Clint, it's not like that-"_

"_Oh no? Well how is it, then? Because I would love – I would _love_ to hear it."_

"_I didn't know how to tell you. I tried, I did. But I just…"_

"_Just what? Couldn't?" He took a step closer to me, his eyes narrowing. "Natalia, what's a relationship if we can't talk about things with one another?"_

"_I…I don't know-"_

"_Exactly. Natalia, you mean the world to me, in ways that no one else ever has. But this…you knew how I felt about children. You won't marry me, you won't bear my child – but I could look past that, because I…I love you," His voice cracked ever so slightly. "And then you do get pregnant, but you can't even tell me…All I can think is, how many other times have you been pregnant? How many other times have you been pregnant, but you've kept it from me? That's not what you do in relationships!" He slammed his fists on either side of the door frame, right beside my face, making me stumble backwards in surprise._

"_I haven't…It was only once –"_

"_Which is it? You haven't been pregnant before, or you have, but you got an – an abortion-" he spat the words out in disgust, spittle flying on my face. "- but you didn't have the guts to tell me?" He locked his eyes onto mine, and I couldn't look away. The light blue of his eyes held me entranced, pools of water collecting in the corners. He never let his emotions get the better of him, and in that sad moment, he was beautiful._

"_Clint, I'm sorry-"_

"_It's not enough, Nat. You're not just my partner; you're my best friend. But I just cannot deal with this at the moment, for both our sakes."_

"_But you can't leave me! What about the baby?"_

"_Yesterday, the baby didn't exist to me. I need to get my head around this. I'll be staying at Steve's until further notice." He gestured to the left of us, and it was only then that I noticed the pile of small black bags parked in the corner._

"_Clint, you can't be serious? We can get through this, we've been through worse – Budapest, remember?"_

"_You and I remember Budapest very differently," A hint of amusement played at the corners of his lips, but he gently shook his head and grabbed the bags from off the floor, swinging them onto his back._

"_It's just for a few days. I'll be back before you know it." He leant over and cupped the back of my neck, giving me a brief kiss on the forehead._

"_I love you."_

"_I love you, too." Letting go of me, he slid past me through the doorway, and a few seconds later, I heard the front door shut with a click. The absent pressure of his fingertips against my neck turned my skin cold. He was gone._

_Natalia_


	5. Month Five

_I just lost control_

_I just wanted you to know_

_When I'm on my own_

_I feel invisible_

_And I just lost control_

_I just needed you to know_

_When in front of you_

_I feel invincible_

* * *

_Dear darling,_

_Your father was away for a whole week. Usually, a week can seem like nothing – but not this time. This time, time seemed to drag on for eternity. Minutes may as well have been hours, and hours may as well have been days. I felt stuck – stuck in this seemingly limbo world, where nothing really mattered. In a sense, I was breathing, but not living; I was numb to everyone and everything. If it wasn't for your Uncle Bruce, I don't know what I would have done. It seems silly now, but at the time, I just didn't do anything. Sure, I got up to go to the toilet, or to get into bed at night. But your Uncle Bruce, he cooked, he cleaned…he looked after me. He didn't have to, but he did. When you're older, you will learn about his past. A lot of people presume that he is angry, violent – but I promise you that underneath all of that, he's just a big softy, and a trusted friend._

_I have to say, Bruce probably had a lot to do with why your father came back so relatively quickly. It must have been awkward for him, having to deal with both your father and myself. But he did, and for that, I'll be forever grateful._

_When your father came home, it was ten at night. I didn't hear the door open or close, but suddenly a pair of familiar, warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me back against a tense chest._

"_Clint?"_

"_Natalia." At the sound of your father's voice, I immediately turned over and pulled him close to me, breathing in the soothing mixture of aftershave and sweat. I pressed my lips against his skin, tasting damp saltiness that spread across my tongue._

"_I've missed you," he murmured into my neck, his moving lips against my skin sending shivers throughout my every pore. My eyes fluttered shut as I relaxed, getting used to the fact that this wasn't a dream, but reality._

"_I missed you too."_

"_We need to talk," he pulled away slightly, leaving enough space so that his eyes could roam my own. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and we need to talk."_

"_I agree."_

"_Now?"_

"_Sure." Staying in bed, we settled back down, his arms still loosely wrapped around me, a serious expression on his face._

"_I shouldn't have left you," he starts quietly, his eyes switching between mine. "But I was hurt. I knew you didn't want to have children, and I was prepared to sacrifice that for you, because you are more than I deserve anyway-"_

"_Clint-"_

"_Hey, let me finish." He smiles slightly, the corner of his mouth jerking up in amusement. "But then you get pregnant…I always believed that if it ever happened, you'd tell me, because we trust each other, even if you won't say it out loud. And I know we trust each other because you've let me fight by your side, and you can't make a good team without that trust being there. I thought maybe that there was an unspoken agreement about pregnancy between us – that if it ever happened, you'd still tell me, despite everything. But you didn't, and I felt betrayed. I knew I had to think things over – us, our relationship, the baby, our future - so I left. But I should have stayed to support you, so I guess that I betrayed you, too." The note of sincerity in his voice and the deepness of his eyes made my heart melt. Raising my hand to his cheek, I stroked the rough stubble softly, trying to think of what to say._

"_I should have told you. I'd love to have a good excuse as to why I didn't, but I don't. I did try to several times, but it just wasn't right, and I – I guess I was worried that things would change between us. My past…" I trailed off, and we exchanged a look. Clint knows everything you know and more. He knows when not to push me._

"_I was pregnant once before. I got an abortion because I just didn't want to deal with it. I never told you because I knew you'd be angry. That may be cowardly, but I was worried you'd leave. I regret my decision, but I wasn't ready to be a mother – fuck, I'm not ready now. But I couldn't do it a second time." My lips began to tremble as I stared at your father staring at me. Gently, he brushed his mouth against my forehead._

"_You should have told me, but I understand. You did what you thought you had to do. Just remember that this time around, I'm here for you, and you've got to tell me things, Nat. Promise me you'll let me in."_

"_I promise." I whispered, so quietly I wondered if Clint had even heard me. But at his next words, I knew he had._

"_So…still not keen on the marriage idea?" A brilliant grin lit up his face, and I tilted my head back in a silent laugh._

"_I won't even dignify that with a response."_

_After an hour more of discussion, we decided that I'd need to go and have a screening to check that everything was going fine. Aunt Pepper had told me all about her appointments, but I hadn't made a single one. I knew they wouldn't take you away from me without my consent, but in all honesty, hospitals freak me out – not just because of my past, but because of how helpless you are once inside them. They could do anything, you know?_

_The next morning, Clint rung up the hospital and scheduled an emergency appointment for three o'clock – "emergency" because I haven't had one yet, which is apparently an incredibly irresponsible and stupid thing to do, according to the receptionist. Their wisdom is infinite._

_When three-o'clock approached, I found myself sat next to Clint in a lime-green waiting room, with pale green plastic chairs, and one of those wooden bead sets in the corner, designed to amuse children. I think in their excitement that the hospital forgot that those children were still in the waiting mothers' stomachs._

"_Miss Romanoff." A short, stout woman stood at the door, wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. Her face was pinched in what seemed a permanent scowl._

"_Yes," Clint replied, standing up and dragging me up beside him. As she did a quick once-over of us both, her eyes narrowed in disgust. At a sharp hand squeeze from Clint, I refrained from rolling my eyes._

"_Follow me." Turning on her heel, she briskly began clicking down the corridor, seemingly expecting us to keep up. After guiding us down a maze of corridors, and around dozens of corners, we finally entered a chilly, white room that smelled of cleaning detergent. A woman was sat bent over a computer, clicking away furiously. The grumpy lady cleared her throat before clicking her way back out of the door, leaving us with the typer, who was now staring at us with a wide smile on her face._

"_Dears, now who do we have here…Natasha and – you must be her husband, Clint. Nice to meet you both, I am Dr Thomas, and I will be seeing you through the rest of your pregnancy. Now if you'll just lie back on that chair over there and lift your shirt up over your bump, we'll just take a look…" As Dr Thomas turned back towards her computer screen, I made my way across the room towards the smooth plastic recliner that seemed to dominate most of the room. As I lay down, Clint pulled up a metal chair next to me, slipping his hand into mine as I pulled up my shirt._

"_Now, this may feel a bit strange at first, but you'll get used to it…" squeezing a mound of cool, slimy gel onto my stomach, Dr Thomas pulled a weird scanner thing from the ultrasound monitor and began to spread the gel out across my tummy. Could you feel it?_

"_Ah, now there is your baby." I don't think I will ever be able to fully describe what it felt like to see you for the first time, up on that screen. Although I am five months pregnant with a considerable bump, before that moment I had never really viewed you as a human being – a person, with a torso, and arms, and legs, and eyes, and fingernails – you were just My Bump. But you were real, baby – you are real. You looked so tiny and delicate up on that monitor, so precious and dependant, that it scared me. At times, I seemed barely able to look after myself, let alone someone else – let alone a child! But it also made me love you._

_I'll admit it. That scanning was when I fell in love with you. Seeing you on that screen made you real, and even as I write this, I have a picture from the ultrasound right next to me. I hope you know just how beautiful you are._

"_Well, everything looks perfectly formed, and I can't see anything wrong with it from here…of course, we will be running a few more scans over you, checking for any genetic deformities, that sort of thing – but I'm sure everything will be fine. Now," she turned back around to face us, grinning widely. "Something that I'm sure you'll find far more interesting that foetuses developing – would you like to know the sex?" Myself and your father had spoken about this._

"_Yes."_

"_Well…Mr and Mrs Romanoff –"_

"_We're not married-"_

"_You are pregnant with a baby boy."_

_Love, your mother_


End file.
